Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [1013]
He kissed me. He kissed me for the very first time, and I didn’t care. I moved away from those soft lips, and kissed my way along the line of his jaw. Kissed my way onto his neck. He seemed to take it as an invitation, because the hard length of him pushed between my legs. I opened for him, but put my hand on the back of his neck, holding his neck close to my kisses. His hair was the softest I’d ever touched, but it meant almost nothing to me. I could smell what I wanted, smell it like candy just under his skin.
He pulled against my hand. His voice was strained as he said, “Anita, I need a better angle.”
I kept my hand pressed into his neck, brushed by that soft hair, held him where a few kisses more would put me where I wanted to be. I felt him now, pushing against my opening, but not quite there. Normally, that distracted me from other things, but not tonight. Almost without thinking I moved my hips, my legs, angled my body for him. He entered me, and that did distract me. It made my eyes fly open wide, made me cry out and writhe underneath him. But I never let go of the back of his neck. I pressed my face in tight against his, as I raised my hips off the bed, my legs in the air so he could push himself in and out of me. I cried out under the strength of his body.
“Let me rise, Anita. Let me look at you.”
“No,” I whispered, “not yet.”
He pushed against my hand at his neck again. I put my other hand on his back. I held him in place and kissed over the pulse in his neck. It jumped and beat against my lips like something alive. Like a trapped bird in a cage of flesh. I would set it free. I would let it pour into my mouth, and…There was a moment of sanity, a heartbeat of, no, then Jean-Claude’s power breathed through me, his hunger, both his hungers, and there was no more doubt. There was only the press of Donovan’s pulse against my mouth, his body thrusting inside mine, my hips rising to meet him, and my mouth on his neck.
I bit him and tried to be gentle, but gentle wasn’t what I wanted, wasn’t how I felt. The sensation of his flesh in my mouth, caught between my teeth, as I bit slowly down, harder, and harder, felt so good. But what I wanted to do was bite more, take more of his flesh into my mouth, into me. The fluttering heat of his pulse like a frightened butterfly beat against the roof of my mouth. It was like a caress, urging me on, begging me to free that dancing bit of life.
Donovan lifted me up off the bed, his arms locked around me as he went to his knees. The movement startled me, made me ease back from the biting.
His voice was shaky. “Too much teeth, Anita.”
He knelt on the narrow bed, his arms wrapped around me, his body no longer inside me. My legs were wrapped around his waist. I must have done it automatically when he moved. He’d stopped making love to get me to stop trying to eat him.
His neck had a perfect impression of my teeth like a purplish-red bruise in the white perfection of his flesh. Blood traced down his shoulder and back where my nails had gone into that smooth skin. I could have said so many things, but the one thing I said was the one that amazed me most. “You broke the ardeur’s hold.”
“I may not be a predator, Anita, but I’m still a king; that means I have to give myself to you. You can’t just take it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s all right, I’m not angry. Just don’t tear my throat out, or carve my back up, okay?”
“I’m not sure she can help it,” Micah said. I looked out from the man in my arms to find not just Micah but all the men crowded around the bed. Remus seemed to be arguing with Requiem and London. Too low to hear, but body language said it all. I met Micah’s eyes and asked for help with